Epilogue
Years later, Victor Zsasz would find he hated the Caped Crusader, the Batman. He would curse his name, and even promised the inside of his eyelids to that particular death tally, so great was his desire to end the man's life.
His intense hatred for the hero went misunderstood by psychiatrists at Blackgate and at Arkham.
The loss of her was felt everyday, sometimes just by her absence, but sometimes it was the overwhelming void created by the vacuum of sorrow and rage that knew no depths. Sophie Summers had done so much for him, and it was in her death that Victor had grasped his purpose in life. He'd always been good at killing people, it was his art. Yet releasing people from their mortal coil, that was his true purpose, and her death would not be meaningless.
When he'd sit in the darkness of his cells and turn the image of her over and over in his mind, his hatred for Batman increased exponentially.
Where was that hero thirty years ago when kids got abused by their parents and other little kids were left to provide shelter?
Where was that masked fuck when a woman got mugged and maimed jogging on the street twenty years ago?
Why was now the time of heroes, and not then? What the fuck was the purpose in it all? Well, all that mattered to Victor Zsasz was that the Batman hadn't been there when he'd really needed some kind of a hero himself, and that was the greatest wrong the caped freak could ever commit.
Victor couldn't wait to end the Batman's life.
'You should have saved her,' he'd whisper as he carved vengeance into the hero, and then it wouldn't hurt so bad. Zsasz could hardly wait for that day.
The End.
Thank you for reading/following/favoriting! I hope you enjoyed it! I really wanted to tie in the Zsasz from Gotham to the other incarnations of Zsasz I've seen in comics and movies. By the end, I wanted to explain how he becomes the Zsasz of Batman's present. I still love reviews, so PLEASE leave them! :D